


Nothing Changed at All

by allison_rhianne_kent88



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:47:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allison_rhianne_kent88/pseuds/allison_rhianne_kent88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Putting my music on shuffle has dictated that I write based on Pompeii by Bastille.<br/>This follows the relationship of Steve and Bucky in snippets through time.<br/>The world may crumble and rebuild around them, and occasionally they are left to their own devices, but when it comes to boys in love, it almost seems like nothing's changed at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Changed at All

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a relatively new writer, and I'm too weak for the whole shuffle challenge thing, but here it is.  
> I love feedback, even as short as this is. Enjoy :)

Steve had a memory from early in the summer of 1941 where the world wasn’t right but two boys in Brooklyn had it all figured out. They had been sitting shoulder to shoulder in companionable silence out on the stairs up to their dilapidated postage stamp apartment, listening to the distant strains of dance-hall music from around the corner, the evening air as hot as the band. Their tiny radio had been turned off as the announcer crackled out announcements of the war in Europe and the new involvement of the Soviets in the fight. Steve had declared his desire to join the fight and rid the world of Nazis; Bucky had twisted down the power knob, professing discomfort with the whole situation altogether. 

Now as they sat outside, the rowdy trumpet riffs gave way to a crooning clarinet. Ever so slowly and silently, Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s knee, slightly trembling. They had touched casually before, many times actually, in the spirit of close brotherly friendship, but this time it was different. A sharp intake of breath from Bucky had Steve flicking his eyes up to his friend’s, but the brunet never shifted his gaze to meet those baby blues. He stared straight forward and cautiously slid his hand up to his own knee and rested it lightly on Steve’s fingers. After a pause, Steve rotated his hand so that he was gently clasping Bucky’s in his own. Then, Steve slowly leaned his cheek against Bucky’s broad shoulder. They held this pose until long after the song ended. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Silvery tags swung from a sweaty neck, grey against green fabric as a figure staggered out from the infirmary tent. Pushing dark hair back and shielding grey eyes from the bright sun, Bucky startled when hands clasped to his hips from behind. Steve quickly released him to keep up appearances and came around to face his best friend.

“God, look at you!” Bucky breathed out in wonder then chuckled. “Can’t say I ever expected this.”

“No ‘thank you’? No ‘what would I have done without you’?” Steve teased. “Always picking on me for my body.”

“Picking on you?” Bucky smirked. “My dear boy if you believe that anything I have ever done to your body falls into the category of picking on you are gravely mistaken.”

Steve ducked his head with a little smile, pink crawling up his neck and cheeks. 

“Big tough muscles and still blushing.” Bucky gibed.

At this Steve smacked his arm lightly. “Jerk.”

“Punk.” Bucky laughed. His face turned more serious. “Thank you, Stevie.” He said quietly.

Steve just nodded and smiled.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Peggy...”

“I'm here.”

“I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

“All right. A week next Saturday at The Stork Club.”

“You've got it.”

“Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?”

“You know, I still don't know how to dance.”

“I'll show you how. Just be there.”

“We'll have the band play something slow.”

“I'd hate to step on your...”

And the world faded into a blue-black mist as he sunk. And truly he would miss Peggy. But now he would see Bucky. God he hoped he would see Bucky.

______________________________________________________________________________

Seventy years is a hell of a time to miss. The U.S.A. had struggled valiantly and won a world war, then proceeded to enter a Cold War and related Asian conflicts. Later, a wall built as a result of Steve’s time and after crumbled, taking an iron curtain down with it. But rather than taking a deep breath and going home, the U.S. chased leaders through the Middle East in conflicts that were nuanced and diplomatic as the likes of Steve had never seen before. Captain America had had it easy: take down the Germans, the Italians, and the Japanese; everyone else is a friend or at least won’t mind. Now Steve saw not governments but loud angry groups fighting each other at the dismay of the impoverished citizens becoming refugees while political leaders stood by, entered talks, or gassed their people. As always, clouds loomed over the international sky, but this time Steve didn’t have all the answers for a fight.

___________________________________________________

The government insisted that Mr. James Buchanan Barnes atone for his crimes against American people, citizen groups crying out that only death could account for the Winter Soldier’s sins.

But Steve much preferred to deal with the rubble of the man he once knew. His Bucky was now defensive, calculating, and animalistic, but above all extremely lost. Instead of anger, distraught terror plagued the Sergeant as his memories flooded back. He placed these recalled occurrences into two categories, for no other subjects had yet to surface: The Asset and Steve. Through the horrifying memories of his own deadly actions, Barnes could still grasp at little memories of his best guy – sometimes tiny, sometimes an Adonis, but always beautiful and heroic-- and he was grateful as the blond guided him back to his former self.

_____________________________________________________________

Bucky closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of flowers, bacon, and Steve.

He was reminded of Steve’s birthday back in ’41, when Bucky had splurged on buying meat and had stolen Asters and Black-Eyed Susans from a neighbor’s window box to celebrate. Bucky had tiptoed back into their humble abode with his spoils, trying desperately not to wake Steve until he was all set up. The flowers went on the rickety table in a cracked jar recently emptied of canned beets, the water still tinged pink from the vegetables. Bucky set to work frying the bacon, the sizzling and popping certain to wake his sleeping roommate had Steve’s good ear not been firmly squashed into the pillow. Once the grease had been run off into a chipped off-white mug, Bucky neatly arranged plates, bread, and steaming meat around the flowers. Creeping swiftly to the bed, Bucky had stroked back blond locks and in an exhilarating snap decision had pressed his lips to the now-exposed pale cheek. Steve had stirred, mumbling out, “Buck?” The bigger man had grinned and whispered, “Happy birthday, Doll.”

Back in the present, a recovered, though not ever exactly the same as before, Bucky Barnes was lying in bed in a fancy tower with delicious scents wafting over him. Even though he was awake and he knew what was coming as he’d seen it all before, shivers still raced the length of his spine as warm lips met his stubbly cheek accompanied with a whispered, “Good morning.”


End file.
